


The World Where I Do Not 'Exist'

by Nhitori



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Abuse, F/F, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nhitori/pseuds/Nhitori
Summary: Lion Ushiromiya is the result, in the miraculous fragment where Natsuhi does not reject the child of Kinzo and Beatrice Ushiromiya.Even still, there are millions upon millions of fragments. Ana, the Witch of Potentia, has decided to share one of these with Beatrice and Battler. There are no miracles here, only different pasts and different outcomes. Nothing like Lion.And in the one that's being shared, well.Nothing like Sayo Yasuda either.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Gremory the Crimson Witch as well as Tora Ushiromiya, as mentioned in passing in this fic, belong to the user KinuNishimura in her wonderful fic "Wanderlust Of The Golden Witch".
> 
> The ERASED reference in the title is only a reference, and the fic's content will not reflect it.

Sometimes, Beatrice wondered.

She was a thousand year old golden witch. She had married a nineteen-year-old golden lord with the power of endless nine. These statements were entirely true of Beatrice. What was also true of Beatrice was that she was currently lounging in a much-too-large tub, submerged in far-too-many bubbles. She had a tub tray that bridged her own personal lake and hung just above her midsection. On it, she had of course, the classics. Two glasses of wine. A book. An entire salad. A figurine of a goat servant. One Rose Petal. A cup of coffee. A purgatorial stake. The usual.

Well, perhaps not that final one, but it was just in case she suddenly needed a third glass of wine, or some such, while bathing. Once reaching the Golden Land, furniture became real… That was true, but even so, it wasn’t like they had all done it out of need or obligation. Some took a glee in what they did. Or, did under certain circumstances. The rationale behind Asmodeus Of Lust’s volunteering to do this so often may have been out of some desire to catch a glimpse of some of that sweet golden witch bod. She did have a hot bod. She also had an ex-girlfriend who taught her such absurd language, but then again, she had a husband.

Not like that husband could possibly beat up Asmodeus if she did happen to see something to flutter her stake-sister-senses. Good grief. What sort of woman landed a husband who couldn’t even beat up a single one of her excessively powerful battle servants? Well, he was a husband who could _take_ a beating from them like a champ. She guessed that was good enough. She sighed, popped a bubble, and a butterfly flew out. She hadn’t trapped them there to begin with, but summoning one at the right time made a nice effect.

What Beatrice wondered was about the truth of the world, and existence. As golden and endless as she was, she was an absolutely limited witch when it came time to play. She had certain pieces to work with. On Rokkenjima, she could only utilize a piece which had truly existed on that island at that time. No matter how much fantasy she added to it, her pieces, the core of her mystery could only wrap itself around those ‘eighteen people’.

Erika. Will. Lion. Tora. All pieces that had been haphazardly placed on Rokkenjima in the games of other witches. All pieces that she herself could not use. Even Ange, who had been dragged on by Battler himself once… Was off-limits as a piece for Beatrice. The truth… That magic-denying toxin tugged and tugged and tore her Rokkenjima. Why was Ange off-limits? It wasn’t like her missing that year’s family conference was expected. Hm. Maybe that version of ‘herself’ from back then, Sayo, had simply excluded that child.

Fair enough. It wasn’t as if Ange’s presence would make or break anything put down there. She very well could have been considered present, if it weren’t for what was retroactively a fact that she hadn’t been. Past, present, and future, an Endless Witch is still bound by the ultimate truth. So another witch can break that. Beatrice couldn’t.

Goat fabrications bored her. That’s what so many of them were, goat fabrications. Only witches and detectives could twist her Rokkenjima in ways that brought a mind to think, and there were hardly enough of those in the world. Beatrice was… Starting to understand that idea the wandering witches put forth. The disease of boredom. She wasn’t often bored in her life here, truly. She had all sorts of wonderful friends to keep her company. It was only when she was alone like this that she got to wondering. That’s all it really was, wondering. Wondering what sort of Rokkenjimas she was unable to imagine. What she couldn’t even conceive of.

She glanced up, and saw it there. Her golden butterfly hadn’t dissipated like it normally would upon hitting the ceiling. Instead, it had turned a garish shade of pink. Lambdadelta? No, not quite. A butterfly changing to match her would be a bit more pastel than this, a bit more delicate. It would have taken her longer to notice, that much was for sure. She lifted the stake which could summon Asmodeus, leveled it at the butterfly, and spoke. “Whoever’s spying on meee, I don’t think you’re going to enjoy what I’ve got in store!”

Oh, but _she_ would.

“Is that any way to greet a guest?” The butterfly asked, flew a bit away from the ceiling, then turned over twice, and behold! A witch. “And before you start, you did invite me. I’m the Witch of Potentia. Ana, at your service.”

Ana, the Witch of Potentia, was a bit on the tall side. Slender. She had a foxish look to her face, and a classic witch’s hat on her head. Slightly offset, so that her curled brown twintails could cascade down beyond her waist. Her clothes were mostly grey and black, the top a blouse filled with lace that Beatrice could see herself wearing; But the skirt a short one that she could see her stakes wearing. Ana didn’t have much in the way of legs, so the beanpoles she stood on were clad in fishnets down to a pair of what could only be called medieval knee-high boots.

“I did not invite anybody to my bathroom,” Beatrice said, “But if you don’t explain right now, I will, and you won’t like her.”

“Hm, I dunno,” Ana said, “I might. A-nyway, you did. You cast magic while thinking about the stuff that you’ll never know. Well, with my help, you can know it.”

“As compelling as that offer iiiiis…” Beatrice lowered the stake, then shouted, “It could certainly wait until I’m not naked in the bath, couldn’t it!?”

“If it would make things less weird, I could also be naked. And then I’d be more embarrassed because I wouldn’t have all those bubbles actually covering me up beyond any chance of seeing anything but your loud, loud head.”

“Battleeeeeeeerrrr!” Beatrice cried out, at which point her husband arrived surprisingly quickly, though not with too much concern. “This weirdo witch who turned up in our bathroom is bullying meeeeee!”

“Well, I’m used to being bullied by a weirdo witch in our bathroom.” Battler joked, but looked to Ana anyway. “But, I’ll bite. Who are you, and what are you doing to my wife?”

“I showed up in the bathroom and also called her loud,” Ana said, “Battler Ushiromiya, right? Pleased to make your acquaintance! I’m Ana, Witch of Potentia!”

“What exactly does a Witch of Potentia do?” Battler asked, looking to Beatrice for guidance. She was just pouting.

So, Ana answered instead. “Well, see, I know about the Rokkenjima gameboard. Any witch who’s worth anything was at that banquet, after all. I think I ate a bit of your knee, Battler, so I apologize. It was tasty, though, I’d eat it again. Moving on. To put it in a way you can understand, say, Bernkastel can track down any fragment which contains a certain Lion Ushiromiya. The miracle created when Natsuhi Ushiromiya cares for the baby bestowed upon her by Kinzo Ushiromiya. As a witch of potentia… The fragments I find are not miraculous. But I do stumble upon so many different sorts.”

“Ohoho…” Beatrice rose from the bath, her gown magically appearing along the way as she did. Even her shoes were on by the time she stepped out, heels clicking against the tile as she was now dressed flawlessly. “Now, this. Isn’t this interesting, Battler? Shall we try our hand at another battle of wits, side by side, against a worthy foe?”

“Am I worthy?” Ana asked.

“Well.” Beatrice shrugged. “At least one of your fragments will be. That should make up the difference if you aren’t.”

“You must be _really_ bored,” Ana said, smirking.

Beatrice matched her with the signature shit-eating grin. “So you yourself admit it! Are you, too, incompetent?”

“Hey now, you married the last person you called incompetent,” Battler said.

“Yessss, because you’re you,” Beatrice said, “And anyway. Fighting an incompetent opponent is its own sort of fun!”

“Then, I take it you’re looking for a fragment in which the murders on Rokkenjima still occur, right?” Ana offered, “There are several in which they don’t, of course. Anything is possible in potentia!”

“That can’t be true,” Battler said, “Bernkastel couldn’t find Ange a single fragment where she got to be happy-”

“Hooooooh?” Beatrice chuckled. “Is that so true, Batlleeeer? I seem to recall a little fragment called the truth in which she began a cheerful, if melancholy new life as a beloved mangaka!”

“...Oh. Yeah.” Battler crossed his arms. “What am I doing trusting Bernkastel anyway?”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Beatrice said, then patted his head. “Taking things at face value is absolutely a huge part of why I was so often nearly able to convince you my work was magic! It’s endeaaaaring. Isn’t he just the cutest, Ana?”

“Hm, his sister’s more my type,” Ana said, waving it off. “Anyway. Well, you’d like something where the murders still occur, but also something that you couldn’t create yourself. Well then, that does rule out any of Lion’s less miraculous fragments. Any killing which happens in those isn’t exactly mysterious. But, still. Maybe this will pique your interest.”

“Tell me, tell me tell meeeeee,” Beatrice was practically salivating at the idea of another gameboard to play on.

“Oh, I will. First, though.” Ana snapped her fingers and somehow transported the three of them into Beatrice’s tea room. “Call one, call all… Call any who might prefer to hear this tale. I’ll tell you now, it’s best if Shannon and Kanon join the audience. Anybody else can join, of course, but I think this story is one most shared if all who were once called ‘Sayo’ are present.”

“Hoooh, so it’s that kind of board?” Beatrice asked.

“Depends what you mean by ‘that kind’,” Ana said, then took a seat. She pulled from the air a fragment the same shade as the butterfly she’d possessed, the same shade as her eyes, then dropped it over the table. Once more, Rokkenjima took shape. “This is a fragment which contains its own truth. The mystery has a heart. Without love, it cannot be seen. The Tragedy Of The Golden Witch fulfills its name, but nonetheless, it is not a loveless game.”

“Without love it cannot be seen, of course, of course. That’s why the three of us are here. A gameboard which puts the spotlight on us,” As Beatrice spoke, Shannon and Kanon both entered the room and sat on either side of her. “It’s a wonderful gameboard indeed! We can bear witness to the love which-”

“Oh, no, that isn’t why you’re here at all.” Ana tilted her head and grinned down her chin at the three, a condescending look. “This is the fragment where you do not ‘exist’. There is no Shannon, no Kanon, and most importantly of all…”

“The Tragedy Of The Golden Witch… Is that she isn’t here.”

**Tragedy Of The Golden Witch.**  
The difficulty level is easy. With love, the answer may be obvious.

Let us begin.


	2. Jessica's Loneliness: A - Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to throw popcorn at the screen, though the server is for another game than this, channels exist to observe Ana's board. https://discord.gg/r8WNW8b

Jessica Ushiromiya was kind of a loner.

That was the first word she’d use to describe herself, anyway. Which was funny; She was also an outgoing person. Outgoing would be the second word! And, er, maybe ‘dumb’ would be the third, but then she’d definitely go on to list plenty of other virtues. Still, those first two words were the issue at hand in her current thoughts.

She _had_ friends. First and foremost, undeniable truth, Jessica had friends. The issue was that she didn’t have anybody she could consider a best friend, and she didn’t have a boyfriend either. It wasn’t like she never got asked out, either. She was really cute, known for her music around school, had lots of money, and could get along with boys easily. It was that third bit which made it weird, though. Weren’t women usually supposed to gold-dig men? It was weird to always be stuck feeling like boys wanted to be with her because she could pay for their meals.

Maybe if she were more girly, then she’d land some less crude fellows? But even as she thought about that, it didn’t seem that appealing anyway. What good was a boyfriend you couldn’t have fun with? She kind of felt desperate at her age, to be in love and show off a boy, but not desperate enough to pretend to like somebody she didn’t even have feelings for to start with. So, rejecting boys and never quite getting along well enough with girls, Jessica was an outgoing loner. Everyone knew her, and she liked them just fine…

And that was all there was to say about that.

At home, things weren’t that interesting either. Jessica had a stupid boring life with stupid strict parents and-

Okay, well, they weren’t so strict lately. And that was _really fucking weird_. Jessica was used to having everybody breathing down her neck, ever since she was a little kid. She was Krauss’s daughter, so she was the heir. Heiress. Not heir. Heiress meant that she needed to become a perfect wife so that some worthy gentleman of running the Ushiromiya family would want to marry her. Gross. Jessica thought that was gross. All of it was just gross!

So why wasn’t she happy to be free of those shackles? Free? Was she free? Nobody ever said she was free, it just got better. Over time, it got better. She said everybody was breathing down her neck, but that wasn’t quite true. Mom and Dad breathed down her neck to keep her moving and attentive and trying to become a maiden. Eva breathed down her neck to make a mistake bad enough that the headship would pass to George. Grandfather… Surprisingly never bothered with her much. He’d occasionally chide her behavior when they did meet, and he hit her once when she said something really stupid. Otherwise, he wasn’t as overbearing as she thought the current head should have been.

She hadn’t seen him around at all for a while now, anyway.

And for a while now, not as long as that while but just about, Mom had been getting off her case. Nothing was spoken directly. No, ‘Jessica, you don’t have to go to your etiquette lessons this week’. Instead, Jessica didn’t leave her room for them, and Mom didn’t come looking for her, so that was that. Dad was as strict as ever, sure, but with Mom easing off he didn’t have as much of a gauge on what ladylike behavior his daughter was meant to put forth.

She really, really should have been relieved. Instead, it freaked her out, because there wasn’t any explanation. Wasn’t any reason, and her parents wouldn’t talk to her, of course they wouldn’t. She was just a kid. Try as she might, she was a kid. The problems of adults would one day be foisted upon her, but until then, they’d be kept out of her reach. Don’t worry about it, Jessica. It’s just grown-up issues. She’d already done plenty of growing up, she thought. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t leave me in the dark.

I’m not as stupid as I look, you know.

But then, she thought, maybe she was. Maybe she was just a stupid, dumb idiot after all because maybe if she was smart she wouldn’t just be able to tell that something was wrong, she could figure out what it was without silently begging her mother to let her in on it, to bring her into the loop. If she was smart, then she’d know. If she was smart, she could solve it. But instead, this was just her. Stupid, stupid Jessica.

Days like this were a pain because she turned those feelings on herself. Something was wrong with her too. And why was she wrong like this? She couldn’t tell you why. She was too wrong to tell you why. It looped over and over again and she just couldn’t break out of it, if she punched the air a million times or climbed up to the top of a cliff and yelled at the top of her lungs. Nobody was here to listen to an Ushiromiya but Jessica herself.

And before she knew it, days went by. Before she knew it, her school festival came and went. Her mother stepped into the room when she was performing, then left immediately after. Her speech was mentioned, but not the music. No scolding and no praise, either. Like it never happened. Her classmates would praise her for her performance and scold her for showing up without a boyfriend. They acknowledged her. Yet, she thought. Couldn’t somebody say something from the heart? Couldn’t somebody see her?

And again, before she knew it, the next event in her life came crashing down like a wave on the shores of Rokkenjima. The family conference was here, and there was stress in the air throughout. They were understaffed for it; Somehow the roster had been lost, and they were left only with the two who waited on the family on the daily. Kumasawa and Gohda. Jessica thought they were nice enough, but come on. The shift workers were closer to her own age… The conference really did seem to amount each year, to Jessica feeling left out.

Especially since Battler stopped coming, she realized. For the first year or two it was okay, but then Ange got old enough to hold Maria’s attention, and George started counting himself as an adult, so Jessica was a loner even in her own family. She was left alone in the nebulous space between child and adult, and it almost felt like she’d be there forever.

In spite of that, she was outgoing. It was the second word to describe her. So, though she knew she’d be stuck in the role of the loner for the rest of the weekend, Jessica stood on the dock with Kumasawa, to greet her extended family when the boat arrived.

“My, Jessica. You’re looking very mature these days,” Kumasawa observed, then snickered. “You must be eating your mackerel.”

“Ehh? I guess.” Jessica grinned, flexing an arm. “I’ve been exercising and stuff, too! But I mean, if Gohda cooks it, it makes it kinda hard to tell it was even mackerel in the first place.”

“That’s true, very true,” Kumasawa said, “So are you telling me that you miss your Obaa-san’s rich, fully-flavored mackerel cuisine? Because I’d be happy to whip a little something up for you if you only ask. A scrumptious, salty, midnight snack perhaps?”

“Ahaha, no, I think I’m good,” Jessica said, “Thank you, though. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever get those late-night fish cravings!”

“No need to be ashamed, all growing ladies get them,” Kumasawa said.

Jessica paused for a beat. “Huh? Is… That true?”

“Ohoho,” Kumasawa laughed. “Even though you’re almost all grown up, I can still get you!”

“Aww, no fair. At this rate, you’re gonna be pulling tricks on me till the day I die!”

“The day _you_ die, Jessica? Are you forgetting the simple fact that I am old?” Kumasawa asked, then crossed her arms. “Though, who knows. If I keep eating my mackerel and you don’t, maybe I really will outlive you!”

“Enough with the mackerel jokes already!”

“I’m just warming up.” Kumasawa looked out on the ocean, her eyes glinting in time with the waves. “Ange and Maria still fall for it, even more often than you, you know. Even if Ange probably isn’t coming this year, well. The family conference… Time for me to flex my special skills.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it kinda also time for you to be overworked?” Jessica asked, frowning. “I heard about the scheduling mix-up…”

“Oh, that old thing? It’ll be alright. I’ve been feeling a bit underutilized lately, anyhow. I’ll put my all into making sure things run smoothly. Alongside Gohda, of course.”

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Jessica said, “Even on a normal day, there’s usually one more shift worker, right? So…” She clapped her hands together and bowed down. “Please use me as your third shift worker if you need me! I don’t know how competent I’ll be or anything, but I can wash a dish and I can lock a door! So if you get overwhelmed! Ask me for help!”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly do that, dear.”

“If it’s because of my mom or my dad…” Jessica stood up straight again, looking away. “I dunno if they’d even care. But you can ask me in secret. I can be sneaky.”

“No, no. I just couldn’t take you away from having fun with your cousins.”

Jessica decided not to mention that it had been years since she had fun with her cousins. Talking to Kumasawa was… Odd. She liked talking to her, she liked talking to anybody at all, but there was a fundamental gap there. Kumasawa liked to brag that she was skilled in understanding the hearts of maidens, advising and guiding them, but Jessica… Wouldn’t consider herself a maiden. It wasn’t like she didn’t consider herself a girl, but a modern sort of girl and frankly the word ‘maiden’ just didn’t work right for her. Thus, Kumasawa didn’t understand either, even if she was fun to talk to and ever-so-kind.

Jessica returned her eyes to the sea, and there she saw the boat parting the waves. Every year, that boat came to this dock and heralded a very stressful weekend. That’s all it could ever be, really, especially since she’d stopped being able to actually have fun with her cousins. Tensions ran high and her best bet was always to stay out of the way as much as she could, or maybe to try and compose herself properly if she was thrust into the line of fire once more by Aunt Eva’s belief in George’s superiority. Her parents were stressed leading up to, during, and for about a week and a half after the conclusion of the conference.

If Jessica ever made it to the ‘headship’, or more accurately being the wife of the family head, she’d probably just eliminate the conference altogether. Nobody enjoyed it and nothing of much worth ever got done, as far as she could tell. Just a bunch of arguing that went nowhere, and…

Well, _somebody_ was throwing up over the side of the boat, and Jessica would be a little bit hesitant to actually name that somebody from this distance. Her eyes had to be deceiving her, anyway, she thought… But there was no mistaking it as the boat drew closer and she could make it out, when the two heads that had emptied their stomachs into the ocean rose up and let her get a faraway look at their faces. The two redheads. Two people who Jessica hadn’t actually been expecting to see at all; Battler and Ange. Last she heard, Ange was too sick to come, and that scene just seemed to confirm it.

And last she heard, Battler had rebuked the Ushiromiya name six years ago and vowed never to ever return to Rokkenjima, but there was no mistaking him at all. Nobody else in the entire Ushiromiya family had hair that shade of red; The closest was Aunt Eva’s orange redheadedness, but there was no confusing that with this. Maroon shocks of hair that could only belong to those siblings. So when the boat did dock, Jessica did the only dignified thing.

“What the Hell are you doing here!?”

It was, in fact, thoroughly undignified, but for some reason Kumasawa didn’t bother to scold her for it. There was a beat of silence where the adults clearly expected that, and when no scolding came, Eva stepped in to fill the gap, sneering, “Now, Jessica. Is that sort of language something that an heiress ought to be using?”

“I think I’m justified in using it!” Jessica’s words had no tinge of anger in them, only incredulity as she continued to gape at the cousins who _definitely shouldn’t be here_.

“Well, you see.” Kyrie stepped forward. Oh, good, a level-headed woman to alleviate Jessica’s confusion. “We did call ahead to inform you that Ange was too sick to come, so we also asked Battler to come and babysit. At the last moment, however, Ange begged him to ‘let’ her go to the conference, and come too. I hope it isn’t any trouble.”

“No, none at all,” Kumasawa said, “I will need to inform Gohda, however, that we’ll be having two more for lunch.”

“Not necessary…” Ange complained, both hands wrapped around her brother’s wrist. “Not gonna eat.”

“Ahah, yeah,” Battler said, rubbing the back of his neck. “The boat ride isn’t good for these sensitive stomachs of ours! We won’t be ready to eat more than crackers till dinnertime, I bet. Hey Jessica. Been a while. Looks like you’ve really-”

Battler was cut off by Ange pinching his wrist, then looking up to fix him with a glare. “Mama says you’re too rude to girls! Don’t be rude to onee-chan!”

Jessica took a beat, blinked, looked down at her chest, then back up. “Were you gonna say that I’ve really grown boobs since the last time you saw me? Not cool! Bad first re-impression there, my guy!”

“That’s _definitely_ not what I was going to say!” Battler attempted to save face.

“It was,” George said, walking up from the other end of the boat. “Just because we don’t talk as much these days, Battler, I know how you are. It’s shameless, but not at all surprising that you’d comment on your own cousin’s chest.”

“Ughhh.” Battler slumped. “Maria, help! Everyone’s ganging up on me!”

“Uu!” Maria answered the call, letting go of Rosa’s arm to stand next to Ange instead. “Let Onii-chan talk about boobs, uu!”

“Maria!” Rosa chided, “You don’t even know what that means. Don’t just parrot whatever words you hear somebody say!”

“Yeah Maria,” Ange joined in, “Onii-chan says lots of stuff that’s not ‘appropriate for little kids’. That’s what Mama says. I shouldn’t say anything Battler says!”

“Uu… Nothing Battler says?” Maria asked, and tilted her head to one side. “But onii-chan says a lot of normal stuff too.”

“Huhhh?” Ange questioned, looking like her mind was blown by that statement. “Mamaaa! Onii-chan says normal stuff too! Now I can’t say I’m tired?”

“Ange and Maria can’t say ‘I’m tired’, uu?” Maria joined in. Kyrie looked a bit uncomfortable at the fact that two little girls were now questioning her parenting style. Despite having a daughter herself, Jessica could see in Kyrie’s eyes that she wasn’t really great with kids. Thus, Jessica decided to step in for her little cousins.

“No, no! You can say normal stuff!” Jessica said, “But if Battler says anything that you’ve never heard anybody else say, then that’s the stuff you shouldn’t say! You just need to think about it. That’s called critical thinking, and they’re gonna teach you it in school. So you can get a jumpstart on it by figuring out what stuff you’re not supposed to say!”

“Uu! Critical thinking!” Maria raised her purse high in the air like she was cheering. “Maria will learn the magic of critical thinking! A power to help with life! Uu, uu!”

Rosa grabbed Maria’s hand and manually lowered it, a dissatisfied look on her face. “Maria, let’s not start with that. It’s not magic, it’s just a life skill that everyone needs to have. And you should have already had it. You’re nine years old, for God’s sake…”

“Well, my school never tried to teach critical thinking by that name till I was in high school,” Jessica said, still trying to smooth things over. Why was she bothering? Maybe it was because Battler was here, and some part of her hoped that with the nineteen-year-old bridge he represented, she could actually be included with her cousins again. “So I didn’t know what it was called. Plus, I think that it’s actually a type of critical thinking, that Maria realized there was a loophole in Aunt Kyrie’s rule for Ange…? I dunno. I guess I never really got it myself!”

“It’s a good point, though!” Hideyoshi decided to jump into the conversation as well. “You don’t really have to understand it, as long as you do the thinking, Jess! All these fancy words, we can just call it what it is. Common sense! And you kids have all got good heads on your shoulders.”

“Do they now?” Rudolf asked, then gently dropped a vertical fist on Battler’s head. “I dunno about this guy. His head seems more dense, than good. So he’s the bad apple, eh?”

“Mm, well. Apples don’t fall far from the tree, either.” Eva opened her fan. It may have visually hidden her grin, but everybody could still tell she was laughing at her younger brother. “So it seems that he got that thickheadedness from you.”

“Pardon me,” Kumasawa interrupted, “I hate to break up a heartwarming exchange between family, but I do believe it’s about time that you made your way off of the kind captain’s boat. I can take a piece of luggage, as well. It’s good to see you all, again. Especially Battler. You’ve gotten so tall, so I see you’ve been eating your mackerel.”

“Oh! Let me help with the luggage, also!” Jessica volunteered, and flexed an arm. “I can carry plenty.”

“That does make me wonder,” Eva said, “Why is it that you two are the ones greeting us?”

“Huh? Well, my parents are preparing up at the house still, and Gohda’s working on lunch,” Jessica said, “So that leaves us…”

“There was a bit of a scheduling mix-up,” Kumasawa gave a better explanation, “Somebody younger and stronger than me would have been sent down here, but unfortunately, I encountered a spot of trouble with the roster, and… Well, to make a long story short, Gohda and I are the only servants working this weekend.”

“A spot of trouble, hm?” Kyrie wondered, stepping onto the dock. “Does that mean what it implies, that you’re taking responsibility for this issue?”

“It’s entirely my own fault,” Kumasawa admitted, “Krauss planned the schedule for this weekend well ahead of time, and I kept forgetting to pass it on to those who needed to see it. So sorry to say, but you’re stuck with this old grandmother.”

“Aww, we’d never be stuck with you!” Battler assured Kumasawa with a lackadaisical grin. He might not have been speaking for everybody, but his burgeoning support for the servant who was kept on more out of loyalty than usefulness left the others to be quiet. Battler, George, and Jessica volunteered their young muscles to move the bags; There wasn’t that much, since everyone only packed for a couple of days, and they were able to handle it without Kumasawa even needing to lift anything.

\---

“Okay, okay, hold up,” Battler said, hands raised in front of himself. “Ana. I’m thinking that we’re going to need a few red truths here, already.”

“Aww, the first twilight hasn’t even happened and you’re getting confused?” Ana wondered, “That’s precious. Beatrice, I can see why you had such fun playing with him before.”

“If we’re playing a game, best call me Beato,” Beatrice said, then folded her hands under her chin and grinned. “I do agree, though. It should be nice, to lay down some of the facts of this gameboard. After all, it seems you’re taking a number of liberties here. How would you like to do this?”

“Well, it’s pretty simple,” Ana said, “Posit your blue truths, the things you believe I’ve contradicted, and I will reveal in red the standing of this fragment. The same as any truth battle. Though, this chair is quite comfortable, so I’d prefer not to stand for a fight as simple as this one.”

“That’s reasonable,” Beatrice said, “Fine, starting off. It’s not possible for Ange Ushiromiya to be present on Rokkenjima. The cat box is shut and she was never within.”

“The closed cat box exists over your Rokkenjima. When the past is changed, the present can be as well.”

“My turn,” Battler said, “Maria Ushiromiya is taught magic by Sayo Yasuda, acting as Beatrice. How does Maria know about magic if the Golden Witch does not exist?”

“MARIA is a witch on our plane. Thus, her interest in the occult is an innate trait. However, without the Golden Witch to teach her, Maria Ushiromiya believes in magic as a generic term, as well as ghosts rather than witches.”

“Alright,” Battler said, “Kumasawa and Gohda shouldn’t be working alone. Genji Ronoue is also a daily servant, even when Shannon and Kanon are excluded.”

“Genji Ronoue perished in an accident ten years ago! And let’s just go ahead and knock out everybody else who’s missing…” Ana cleared her throat, then gave a sweet smile as she listed off names. “From the usual suspects, Rokkenjima lacks… Genji, Shannon, and Kanon, as previously stated. Nanjo is also not present for this conference, though he lives. Kinzo is dead, but this fact has not been revealed to the family, so he ‘exists’. Ange has been added.”

“Hohhhh.” Beatrice grinned. “Well then, Ana. Repeat it in red. There are fourteen living humans on Rokkenjima. Fifteen bodies are eligible for use in the twilights.”

“I can’t repeat that.” Ana shifted in her chair as she admitted this. “I won’t claim any numbers on Rokkenjima. There can be hidden humans, and there can be newcomers. However, I will still prohibit the use of an additional Culprit X. The Culprit will be one of the fourteen known living humans at current.”

“I have my own reservations about this fragment,” Kanon spoke up.

“As do I,” Shannon agreed, “May we be granted your permission to use blue truths as well?”

“Oh, for sure!” Ana proclaimed, “Blue me away, lady and gentleman.”

Kanon asked first. “It’s unreasonable to state that Milady Jessica hasn’t got friends, no matter how the past has changed.”

Then, Shannon. “In a world without me, George should not be this positive and refined. He improved himself to respect women somewhat better because of his crush on me.”

“Clever, clever! But, invalid. Jessica has friends. But without either of you, she hasn’t got a best friend. I made this very clear. Likewise, Shannon does serve as a bridge to maintain relations between the different age groups of cousin during Battler’s missing years. As for George, he is engaged to a woman picked by his mother. She won’t be making an appearance, but she too was able to give George the kick in the butt to drink a piddlingly small glass of respect women juice!”

“One last thing…” Beatrice decided to ask her question, lifting her pipe and letting the smoke swirl around the room, taking on a soft blue hue as she made her statement. “No matter the fragment, Rokkenjima murders are motivated by… Or at least in some part follow, the epitaph. Without me as a concept, without the Golden Witch, this epitaph shouldn’t exist. So how will the epitaph exist if I do not?”

The smoke from Beatrice’s pipe turned red in an instant as Ana’s face lit up, glad to answer a truth like this with her own. “The mythos of Beatrice is that of a ghost who wanders the forest. There is indeed no Golden Witch at all. However, the riddle, the epitaph, still exists. It is not on public display, and is worded somewhat differently, but has the same solution. It’s written for one person and one person alone to find the gold; He has complete faith it will be solved, it’s intended only as a poetic manner of pointing the way to the Golden Land. Kinzo Ushiromiya’s epitaph riddle is a ‘love’ letter. As for the murders on Rokkenjima…”

“A letter that never came, a letter that was never written, a letter that was never sent, a letter that was never received. Letters are a sin of Rokkenjima which will never change. No matter the fragment. And in this fragment… Tragedy falls when a letter is read by somebody it was never intended for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first set of TIPS is now available as well: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Z32D6v2blbJxKLAb1QF2zedt_61zbFMynIPbwsH4rEE/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> There will be new TIPS made available as is necessary to keep up with the story content.


End file.
